Sunday, March 27, 2011

Eeyore, chapter two

Mom's cough has gotten worse.  This is a big deal, since a cough can turn into a fatal pneumonia.

The hospice doctor came yesterday, Saturday, to see her.  Prescribed another antibiotic and some breathing treatments on a nebulizer, 4 times a day.

I came to see her late yesterday, about 8PM, and the nebulizer machine was sitting there (delivered by rental agency contracted for by hospice), but not used.  The aides at the home didn't seem to know anything about it.  I called hospice to ask, and they said, yes, they should have the orders and then ... 'let me call you back'.  After a few calls, and a late-night visit by the director of the hospice agency...  here is what happened (I think):

It seems that the the hospice doctor assumed his hospice nurse would fax the orders.  The hospice nurse assumed the facility would see the orders and make it so.  The facility aides somehow missed the orders altogether.  And, mom lost a full day in improving her lung function.

Mom didn't get her breathing treatment via nebulizer until 2:30 PM today. Then they were late with the next treatment, so that they could only get two treatments in today, rather than the three we wanted to squeeze in.

What is going on?  I just don't get it.  The proverbial rain cloud over Eeyore (mom) continues to rain.

So, let me breathe deeply as I conclude this blog post.  Maybe I'm getting too much into boring weeds of mom's daily treatment, in my frustration with their errors.

So let me step back and just say...  I think it has been essential to take a very proactive role in mom's care at her homes.  I'm not saying that family members should be a royal pain to care facilities - but to be a very VERY active and engaged partner with them in her care.  I want them to understand that we are working together - and that I am their best friend, or else I'll ask them directly and specifically about matters until I understand that they are handling her care appropriately.

I'm there almost every day.  I make an effort to learn the aides' names - Heather, Cindy, Petti, Holly, etc - and to greet them and to thank them just about every time I see them.  I smile, show genuine interest, and joke with them.  But - BUT - I also insist that Mom gets the care she needs.

Honestly, I'm exhausted right now.  Weary of fighting this battle again. Will Mom survive her 'care'?

1 comment:

washashore wannabe said...

Gosh, Nancy. I'm sorry I've not been following your blog as much as I should have. I so know the drain keeping on top of what you're dealing with can be. Modern medicine makes us slaves to things like nebulizer-treatment schedules. Know that you are doing all that you - or anyone - can do. Breathe deeply. You know that you love. This is the most important thing. No one person can keep another person alive - this is what I've learned to tell myself. Good thoughts to you.